By Buster McNutt
The way I see it, the raccoon killed the deer. The turkey was just in the wrong place at the wrong time. And the squirrel, that witnessed the whole situation and seemed to me to be a little bit too pleased with the results, would be what police investigators might consider an “animal of interest.” They are, after all, little more than rats with furry tails.
I was making my weekly trip to the county dump, this load consisting of tiles from the bathroom renovation, the sink and vanity, and, of course, the toilet. Lady M. insisted on replacing the toilet, because it “clashed” with the new tile. Best I know, toilets only come in one color, so how it could “clash” probably had more to do with the crack in the toilet seat that, if you weren’t just real careful in your personal seating arrangement, could pinch you in places that even your grandmother wouldn’t, or at least certainly shouldn’t.
So the S10 pickup was heading down the dirt road when I saw a wild turkey that was heading into the woods. Since turkeys are not known to have reverse gears, I assumed all was well, and I proceeded on, leaving the eternal question of “Why did the turkey cross the road?” for another day. Then, just as the truck arrived at said turkey non-crossing point, a raccoon runs up next to the turkey, which startles it, so that it jump/flies backwards, right into the middle of the road, where it bumps into the grill of the truck and is catapulted over the front of the truck, and then ricochets off the toilet in the bed and onto the road behind the truck. Only it never actually hits the road. It hits a deer that had patiently waited for the truck to pass before it started to cross the road, only to be rewarded for its look-both-ways-before-crossing safety regimen by being hit squarely between the eyes by a toilet ricocheting turkey. File under, “Things your mother never warned you about…”
Well, I had previously slammed on my brakes in an ill-fated attempt to avoid the turkey. This caused the load in the back of the truck to violently shift to the point where the post-turkey ricocheting toilet actually flew out of the truck and landed on the side of the road. Only it didn’t exactly land on the side of the road — it landed on the raccoon. Now, I’m not sure what if any permits Florida requires for hunting turkeys with a pickup, or deer with ricocheting turkeys, or, for that matter, raccoons with toilets. There were certainly no deer/turkey/raccoon crossing signs in the area, much less a marked off cross walk with a uniformed deer/turkey/raccoon crossing guard in attendance.
The only witness was the overly-amused squirrel, and I figured it would be a good couple million years or so until it evolved to the point where even if it couldn’t speak and literally “rat” me out to the authorities, it could at least nod its head and point its ratty little fingers to give direction to the animal abuse police sketch artist.
But just to be safe, I decided it might be best to eliminate the squirrel, and lacking a spare toilet, I decided to take it out with a good-size rock. Now, there may be any number of definitions of “a good-size rock,” but within the next few seconds mine would forever become “a rock of sufficient size and weight that when you throw it at a moving rodent and miss, and it proceeds to ricochet off the nearest porcelain object on the side of the road and then head directly for the head of the good-size rock thrower.” I’m sure there are well-meaning animal lovers who would consider it poetic justice if a permit-less pickup/turkey/toilet wielding, mass wildlife killer were similarly dispatched by a “good-size rock” between the eyes in an unsuccessful attempt to add to his personal best daily wildlife carnage total. But it was not to be; I ducked and the rock flew harmlessly by me and harmfully through the windshield of the truck.
Great. Anyone can get a busted windshield by hitting a deer that was in front of them. It takes a special talent to get a busted windshield by hitting a deer that is behind them, and by hitting it with a turkey at that. I’m generally a pretty honest person, but when it comes to insurance policy claims, at least in this case, I’m not so sure that honestly is the best policy. I’m thinking I drag the deer to the front of the truck, pull it over the hood and stick one of its antlers through the broken windshield. Then I remove all the turkey feathers from the truck’s grill, and put the toilet back in the truck, after carefully wiping off any tell tale raccoon DNA. Finally — some payback for all those years watching those police forensic shows!
So having appropriately restaged the scene of the crime, I call AAA to report my collision with the deer. The lady from AAA says a wrecker will be right out, and starts laughing. I ask why she is laughing. She says there was late-breaking news on the local TV station where one of the television crew helicopters was flying over a dirt road and got video of a white S10 pickup truck hitting a turkey that flew over the back of the truck and hit a deer and so on all the way to the incident with the “good-size rock” through the windshield.
I canceled the wrecker, moved the deer to the side of the road, brushed away the broken glass, kicked the dead raccoon and proceeded on to the dump. The turkey stays where it is, if only to answer the question once and for all — “Why did the turkey cross the road?”
It didn’t. •
